by T. S. Ryder
One of the prison guards had dragged Natalie out into the yard. Her hands and feet were in fetters. Her dress was in tatters, her ivory shoulders bare. Her pale face looked as though she would swoon at any moment. Then he saw the blood, bright red, dripping from her delicate wrists as the harsh metal cut through her soft skin.
Erdal’s chest constricted at the sight. He had done this to her. Now there was no way that he could save her or the baby. He must do something – anything – to save her from this torture.
“Let her go! She doesn’t deserve this punishment,” Erdal said through his clenched teeth. A futile attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.
He didn’t fear death. There was something he felt for her. The emotion made it unbearable for him to see such a fragile being endure any form of torture.
“Shut up!” Orgus grunted, flicking his large, ominous whip. He flexed his arm and brought down the first lash. Hard.
Erdal winced, gritting his teeth as the whip cut through the skin on his back, slashing it open. Searing, hot pain shot through the gash, bringing tears to his eyes. He dared not scream. He would bear the pain as long as he could. His head reeled as more gashes appeared on his back again and again and again. He could no longer take it. He screamed, the pain blocking everything else out.
Natalie stood bound to the wooden post opposite Erdal. She didn’t realize she was trembling all over, tears uncontrollably streaming down her face. She couldn’t breathe. The heat was making her thoughts fuzzy. She closed her eyes, wishing for time to stop. She longed for the hulking man to stop hurting Erdal. Natalie flinched with each blow that was laid upon him. She hated violence, and now she was being forced to witness it. Even worse, she had to witness its use against Erdal.
“S-stop it! Please don’t hurt him,” she heard herself cry aloud.
Why did she feel his pain? He was a stranger to her – her captor. He wasn’t even human. Was it because he was the father of her unborn child? Or was it because she needed him now? He said she was his mate. Something had changed between them, although she couldn’t figure out what. Yet, she knew in her heart that he was the only one in the entire galaxy who could protect her from the king. If he died, there was no chance she could survive among these barbarians.
Orgus strode toward her with heavy steps, whip in hand. She strained at her shackles. The cold, relentless gleam in the man’s eye was more terrifying than the sight of the whip. She shuddered, catching her breath and bracing herself. She wouldn’t let him gloat over her. She would bear the pain if she could.
She glanced over at Erdal, his long hair matted to his face, still struggling against his restraints. She saw him looking at her and caught naked fear in his emerald eyes as he helplessly gazed back at her.
Just as Orgus stepped behind her, ready for the first lash, out of the corner of her eye she saw a man running toward them. The man wore gray overalls and held a piece of paper in his hand. He waved wildly as he hurried over to them.
“Stop! In the name of the king, stop!” he yelled, as he approached Orgus. He stood for a while, catching his breath.
“I have the king’s orders to release the woman right away,” he said as he thrust the paper into Orgus’s hand.
“What is the meaning of this?” Orgus grunted, irritated at being interrupted.
“The king wants her back at the palace now!” he said. “And he wants Erdal back in prison. His sentence is postponed,” he added quickly.
Orgus stared at the paper and reluctantly released Natalie. She stumbled and the man who had come to her rescue held her, steadying her. Her head spun and she shuddered, taking a deep breath. She turned, taking one last look at Erdal as the man led her inside, back to the harem.
Chapter Seven
He woke up with a start, his heart thrumming against his chest and a dull pain smarting his temples. He looked around the small chamber. Although he could see fairly well in the dark, his left eye troubled him that night. The untended wounds from the flogging burned his back, distracting him as he tried to focus. He needed to see a doctor... Suddenly, a deluge of thoughts broke through the pain. Natalie, and Barca leading her away, and him being dragged back to this cell. It all came back to him.
He tried to sit up and a wave of nausea hit him. He bent over and threw up. His head reeling, he thought he heard the door to his cell open. He instinctively braced himself and saw a man silhouetted in the doorway as he came forward and bent over for a closer look.
“Erdal?” Dr. Barca whispered. “Can you hear me? I’m going to get you out of here.”
Erdal thought he was hallucinating. He simply stared back at him.
“Erdal... Take these.” He held out two red pills and a bottle of water. “They will help with the pain for a while.”
Erdal took the pills and swallowed them. His vision slowly improved.
“Wh-where is Natalie?” Erdal whispered. He was surprised when he had to strain himself to speak. He had always thought he was stronger than that.
“She’s in the harem,” Dr. Barca said. “Can you move?”
“Yes.”
“We don’t have much time, or I would have treated you first. We need to go now!” he insisted.
“Why are you risking your life for me?” Erdal asked, incredulous.
“The woman... Her blood is rare,” he said, as he took off the restraints. “I have found a cure for the bone disease. Her blood will cure my daughter and all the other children.”
“The King, how did you convince him?”
“I persuaded him that the woman is more valuable to us now and that we need her,” he said as he helped Erdal to his feet.
“Thank you,” Erdal said.
“She can’t stay here. Her life is in danger. She still carries your child. Knowing Zutaar, the moment he finds out I discovered a cure, he will kill her.”
“But you need her...” Erdal began.
“I have taken enough samples of her blood to last a lifetime,” Dr. Barca explained. “There’s no time. Let’s go. I will get her out and you will both leave right away. The car stands ready at the far back. You must take the back gate of the fifth garden that opens into the Clapwood forest,” he said in a low voice as he peered outside the door. He motioned for Erdal to follow him.
They made their way through the hallway, walking in the dim light toward the exit. They stepped into the moonless night.
***
Natalie ran as fast as she could as she followed the man who had rescued her earlier. Dr. Barca, they called him. The man who had saved her life and who would help her get to Erdal, who was already waiting in the car. She trusted him with her life. She couldn’t thank him enough.
No. Thank you, Natalie. Your blood saved my daughter’s life, he had said. She was once again surprised. She was an ordinary human, but her blood had saved another being’s life.
He gave her the first aid box that contained everything she would need, and instructed Erdal to go straight to their hiding place.
Her heart fluttered and her stomach knotted when she saw him. He glanced at her and gave her a crooked smile. She fought back tears and sat beside him as the car silently levitated above the ground and swiftly moved forward, past the trees in the forest and high above them toward the mountains.
Erdal knew a place high in the mountains – a cabin house where they would be safe, at least for a while.
It wasn’t until hours later that she saw him differently. She saw the man who he really was.
The night was cold and misty in the mountains. Erdal sat on the chair by the blazing fireplace as she walked up to him. The King’s mercenaries were out looking for them. They had avoided lighting the electric lamps to escape undue attention.
“Let me tend to your wounds,” she said softly.
“I’ll be fine,” he said quietly, brooding. He had been doing so since she got in the car with him.
“No, you’re not. Let me see,” she said adamantly.
“I said I’ll be fine,”
he said, glancing at her with his piercing emerald eyes. They looked fiery in the warm, golden firelight.
“They will get infected! Why won’t you let me treat you?” she said, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes.
He gazed at her intensely, then conceded. She put the box on the nearby table and opened it. She helped him out of his shirt. She saw the amulet he wore around his neck. It was a small, cylindrical silver charm strung on a silver chain.
He sat on the floor facing the fire, his back to her, as she tended to his wounds one by one. The sight of the large gashes searing his back made her breath catch in her throat. She lightly touched one of the gashes with an antiseptic swab and felt him wince. She stopped, took a deep breath, and kept going...
He stared into the crackling fire and flinched at her touch. Her soft hand quietly worked its magic on his burning back. The effect of the pills had long worn off and he needed to rest. His body was strong and it would heal eventually. He was more exhausted from emotional strain.
He was relieved that she and the baby were safe. She was his mate now. Nothing would change that. He heard her quietly sobbing as she worked on his back.
“I’m sorry, Erdal,” she whispered, weeping. “You could have easily killed me. Why did you endure all this?” Her voice cracked as she spoke.
“I couldn’t. You are my mate and I had to save you,” he said softly. “I’m sorry that you had to go through it all.”
“Yes, you got me into this mess. But you tried to save my life, too. It was just bad luck that we got caught,” she said as she rubbed the ointment on his wounds and wrapped gauze around his chest.
He turned and gazed into her warm, brown eyes. They glowed in the firelight as she looked up at him. He saw a world of innocence there, and the depth of her guilt became almost tangible to him. He sensed something more, too – a pull he felt toward her. It charged the air between them. His emerald eyes grew darker...
“You should rest. I... I’ll get some wine. It will help,” she said, her mouth dry. She quickly got up and put the box away as she moved toward the kitchen.
Her stomach twisted and she felt desire pool deep inside her belly as she poured a glass of wine for him. She couldn’t deny the strange pull she felt toward him or the fact that he had chosen her; he had sacrificed everything.
She handed him the glass and put the bottle aside once she was back in the den. He took a swig and then gazed at her, still brooding. She sat across from him on the rug. She was unlike any woman he had known. He was responsible for her, and, strangely enough, she had turned out to be his destined mate. As she gazed at him with those clear, brown eyes, he thanked the gods that she was safe with him there. Now, when he looked at her, he saw she was so different from Kira.
Kira was tough and a fighter. She was a born leader. This woman was incredibly different – almost unusual. She seemed so fragile and delicate, yet she was more brave and stubborn than many he had encountered. She was a gentle human, and when she looked at him, there was this strange light in her eyes. It was the light of her fiery spirit which he found so alluring.
“You should regularly take the breathing pills I gave you,” he said. “It will take a while before your body adjusts to the atmosphere here.”
“Okay,” she said. “Have you lived here all your life?” she asked him.
He took another swig, draining his glass, and she poured more for him.
“Yeah, mostly,” he said, as he stared into the fire. “I was a slave once, many years ago. My master found me in a crashed aircraft on the outskirts of a city. I don’t remember how I ended up there. I couldn’t even remember my name. They found this recording in the debris that gave away my name.”
“And you never tried to look for your real family?” she asked him, as she gazed at him.
“No. Never got a chance. As a slave, you serve your master in the arena. I trained in sword fighting and became a gladiator. You either kill or be killed,” he said, taking another swig.
She was silent as she peered at him.
“How old are you, Erdal?” she asked him.
“I’m three hundred and five. We Darrenkar can live up to five hundred years,” he said, amused at her shocked expression.
“Wow! You are old. How do you manage to look so young?” she asked incredulously.
“Apparently we stop aging after thirty-five,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner if his lips.
“Lucky you,” she said softly. “So how did you end up here?”
“Killing. I was good at it. I was recruited into the king’s royal guard and I eventually became his mercenary.”
He paused and gazed at her. She was quiet and he saw she was thinking about what he said, trying to understand it.
“Then, my wife was killed… by humans,” he said, eyes locked upon hers. She winced, blinking rapidly.
“Oh... You had a wife,” she said, her cheeks flushing red. She stared at the fire, wringing her hands.
“And now you know why I despise humans,” he said.
“You must really hate me, then,” she said, in a quiet voice. “And yet, you still tried to save my life. Why?” She looked at him with wonder in her eyes.
“You remind me of her,” he whispered. “She looked so much like you.”
“So all this time you were thinking about her.” Her voice shrank as tears pooled in her eyes.
“No. Maybe at first, but you are different, Natalie,” he said softly.
“And you claim to be my mate! You saved me because you saw her in me!” she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “I thought you loved me...”
Erdal couldn’t understand why she was suddenly so upset. He saw she was clearly hurt.
“Natalie, you don’t understand. She wasn’t my mate. You are!” he said as he moved forward and held her close. “I loved her once, but you are different from her. Natalie, you are a beautiful woman and I love you for who you are.”
Her scent was irresistible. In one swift motion, he claimed her mouth with his own, devouring her. She gasped, unable to catch her breath.
He pulled away and gazed deeply into her warm eyes. He took off the Erasmeth, the silver amulet he wore around his neck, and put it around her own.
“Natalie, will you be my bride?” he asked her, his voice deep with emotion.
She stared at him, still dazed by his passion as she lightly touched the silver pendant.
“Yes,” she whispered after a beat. He thought she was beautiful. No man had ever seen her as beautiful.
She gently stroked the ridges on his temples with her fingertips and saw his eyes darken. His lips were on hers again and his tongue slid into her mouth, grazing hers with a longing that took her breath away. She yielded and wrapped her arms around his neck, running her delicate fingers through his dark hair. His hand stroked her back, tracing her curves and slowly sliding across her waist as he pulled her closer. Pulling away, he leaned back, and then she was on top of him, straddling him.
Desire, deep and dark, surged through his blood as she bent down and claimed his mouth. He loved her taste. It was intoxicating. Soon, the kiss became relentless. Pulling back, he lay back on the rug and gazed at her, admiring her.
“What are you doing to me, woman?”
She saw the darkening storm in his eyes as he slowly peeled her soft dress off her shoulders. It slid to her waist, revealing her full breasts. Her ivory skin glowed warmly in the firelight and her long hair flowed down her bare shoulders and back. She looked like a goddess from a distant dream.
At feeling the bulge in his pants, desire pooled deep down in her belly. Moving back, she helped him take off his pants and gasped. He reminded her of some Greek god as he lay there, and she admired the impressive length of his arousal. She quickly peeled off her panties and straddled him again, loving the feel of him inside of her. He pulled her toward him as he took her mouth again with a fierce passion. She pulled back then as he cupped her breasts with his hands, and, holding his intense
emerald gaze, she started moving. Up and down, she built a rhythm, taking him with her as they both moved. Their souls united, singing the song of passion, eternally bound in their own universe.
Chapter Eight
Her breath came in gasps. The garish sun bore down on her, blurring her vision. Her hands were tied behind her and she couldn’t move. A hulking man walked toward her. He carried a whip. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. He raised his arm for the first strike, whip in the air. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t breathe...
Natalie woke up with a start. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, warming her face. She lay naked on the rug with Erdal’s hand wrapped across her breasts. She was overheated by his proximity. She turned and saw him sleeping. His alabaster-white skin gleamed in the sunlight. He seemed so peaceful. She lightly trailed a finger over one of the subtle ridges on his temple. She found them fascinating. It was the native mark of the Darrenkar, Zora had said, and the number of ridges increased with age. They circled his skull.
He stirred and opened his eyes, gazing at her.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said, bending over and planting a soft kiss on her lips.
“Morning,” she said and smiled up at him. He loved her lovely smile. The Erasmeth gleamed in the light where it lay at her neck. Taking it in her hand, she gazed at it. “Where did you get this?” she asked.
“The Erasmeth has been in my family for centuries. All I can remember is that it’s an ancient heirloom, and it belonged to my mother,” he said quietly. For the first time, she saw him bare his soul to her. There was profound sadness in his eyes. “And now it’s yours.”
She smiled up at him and, sitting up, she pulled on her dress. She held the Erasmeth in her hand. The silver thing was carved with runes. As she ran her fingers over the runes, they glowed beneath her touch. Then, the Erasmeth clicked open. A rolled piece of paper emerged and she pulled it out.
“I didn’t know it opened.” Erdal sounded surprised and sat up abruptly. Natalie opened the scroll and found strange runes written in an ancient tongue there.